Back to Me Without You
by piratewench78
Summary: A look back in time, when Rayna first finds out she's pregnant with Maddie.
1. Chapter 1

Tandy and I were driving to the cabin at Lake Barkley. I needed her to drive me for a couple reasons. First, it was a two hour drive and it helped to have a companion to help kill time. But second, and maybe most important, I was seriously queasy and that wasn't just from the thought of talking to Deacon about what I needed to tell him. It's really a pain in the ass when you have morning sickness, or in my case, all day sickness. It helped to be able to just lay back against the seatback and close my eyes while Tandy chattered on endlessly, periodically handing me a ginger hard candy. I only had to add a few "uh huh's" and "yeah's" and a word or two and Tandy was happy. And I could contemplate the whole idea of telling Deacon he was going to be a father.

To be fair, Tandy was driving me up to the cabin under duress. She had already made her position clear – don't tell Deacon, tell Teddy the baby was his, and move forward. But she had never really liked Deacon much and she didn't see the man I saw when he wasn't knee-walking drunk or trashing our house in a drunken rage or the man with tears in his eyes when he begged my forgiveness yet again. I think she was really driving me up here so that she could keep me from doing anything stupid. At least, stupid in her mind.

Since that last fateful time I was with Deacon, I hadn't seen him. He had trashed the apartment I'd moved into after I had moved out of our East Nashville home. I knew I probably should have made _him_ leave – it was more my money than his that paid for that house – but truthfully, I was afraid if I kicked him out he'd end up on the street dead and I couldn't have lived with myself if that had happened. So I had packed up my things and moved to an apartment in the West End. It seemed easier that way.

The last time I had been with Deacon before he trashed my apartment, he had asked me to stop seeing Teddy Conrad, to marry him. He had invited me to the cabin and, still being weak where he was concerned, I went. I had broken up with him a couple months earlier, but he was still in my band, so the sexual tension was always there. Oh, I loved Deacon so much. He was in my blood, he was a part of me. Seeing him all romantic and sweet was all it took to get me to say yes that night. That got me to throw caution to the wind and spend all night wrapped up in his arms and his legs, making love over and over. I pushed away the knowledge that I had not brought my diaphragm with me and that I was playing with fire that night. But the next morning he was passed out on the couch and he didn't remember asking me to marry him. He didn't remember anything at all.

I couldn't believe it. He was spiraling down again. Only this time was so much worse than I'd ever seen him. He'd been to rehab three times. _Three times!_ It didn't seem like he was ever going to make this work. I couldn't go through this anymore. I threw the ring he'd given me at his feet and turned on my heel and walked out. When I left the cabin that morning, it was for good. I saw him once more, that day a couple days later, when he showed up at my apartment out of his mind drunk and raged at me about Teddy, about abandoning him, about what a diva I was, and he broke every stick of furniture in my place. As far as I was concerned, that was the end for me. He ended up in jail. I gave Coleman the money to bail him out and put him in rehab, one more time, a longer program that hopefully would be the one to turn things around. I promised that I would try to distance myself from Deacon once and for all.

I meant it too, until the morning that I woke up and almost didn't make it to the bathroom to throw up. After a couple of days of that, dread poured over me. I had a knot in my stomach as I went to a drug store and bought a pregnancy test, wearing my best disguise. I actually bought five. I went home and closed myself in my bathroom – why I did that, I don't know, since I lived alone and no one would see me – and peed on that stick. I sat on the side of the tub waiting for the five minutes to be up. My hand was shaking, badly, as I picked it up and looked at it. I lurched for the toilet as it sunk in my brain that there had been a little pink plus sign, as bold and certain as it could be. I was fucking pregnant.

I did all the other four tests, but the result was still the same. I sat on the floor of the bathroom and cried, big sobs of despair. I had been dating Teddy Conrad for several months. He was a nice guy, treated me well, solid citizen. And he wasn't a drunk. I liked him. A lot. Even though I missed Deacon and I knew that my feelings for Teddy weren't the same as the all-consuming passion I had for Deacon, Teddy seemed like just the right guy for me. Our love life was nice, not exciting, but comfortable. I had taken a break from the pill, but had gotten the diaphragm just in case. Teddy always used protection. Always. So some of the sobbing was for the realization that I was going to have to tell him I was pregnant and that there was probably no way he was the father. And then where would I be?

Tandy was the only person I'd told. I needed somebody and she was it. I didn't really have friends. Oh, I was friendly with some of my country singer contemporaries, but there was always that competitive fire burning that would prevent us from being truly close. I didn't have friends from school because, number one, people thought I was weird because I liked country music, and number two, once Daddy had kicked me out of the house, I never went back to school. Deacon was my friend. Plus my lover, the love of my life, my soul mate, my partner. That was all I thought I needed. But Tandy had always been there for me. She looked after me after our mom died. And even though she was like a female Daddy, she was always there for me. I loved Tandy because she was my blood, but I also loved Tandy because she was my friend.

Tandy had been the one to fix me up with Teddy. She was tired of all the Deacon drama and, as soon as I kicked Deacon out, she had swooped in with this clean cut, handsome junior executive from a good, though down on its heels, Nashville family. An old guard family with little money to their name anymore. Tandy had met Teddy in one of her MBA classes and thought he'd be the perfect anti-Deacon. She was right – Teddy Conrad could not have been more different than Deacon Claybourne. I tried not to compare them, but it was hard. Although Teddy had many wonderful qualities, it was hard to totally turn my back on my tortured, beautiful Deacon. I didn't tell Teddy much about Deacon, just that it had been a complicated relationship and that I was exhausted from Deacon's inability to stay sober. I felt bad knowing how much this was going to hurt Teddy, who had been nothing but good to me.

I had showed up on Tandy's doorstep in tears. When I told her I was pregnant, her first comment was that she thought we were taking precautions. When I didn't respond to her, she scowled at me and let loose with a string of expletives, and then she pulled me into her loving embrace. As pissed as she was at me, I knew she would help me navigate through this. Which is why we ended up on the highway headed for the cabin Deacon had bought after he'd gotten out of rehab the first time and when I had been nominated for a CMA for the first time. I was just 21. Deacon was 24. We were young and foolish. Deacon knew better than to make a decision like that just out of rehab, but oh, that was my dream place for us. I got caught up in his excitement and I loved the grand gesture, so typical of him. But unhappy stuff happened there too. Too many drunken nights, with fights and Deacon trashing the place. And that proposal that he couldn't remember the next day.

Coleman told me that Deacon had left rehab last night. At first I was pissed. This was the fourth time I had put him in rehab. Who goes to rehab this many times? I couldn't believe that yet again I had thrown money away trying to get him clean and sober, once and for all. But I was also afraid. I suspected that he was back in the cycle and so when Tandy and I went to his house first and he wasn't there, I wept tears of sadness and frustration and anger. "Where do you think he might be, babe?" Tandy asked, even though I knew she didn't really care.

I looked at her and felt my stomach heave. I took several deep breaths, trying to calm myself, because I knew this was the emotion making me feel ill. Tandy handed me a piece of ginger candy, which seemed to help. "His truck's not here. He could be at a bar or he could have gone to the cabin."

"What do you want to do?"

Tears rolled down my face. "I want to make this all stop happening." Tandy rolled her eyes. "I know," I said, with a heavy heart. "I got myself into this all by myself." I brushed the tears away. "I feel like I need to find him. I need to tell him about the baby."

"Rayna…."

I frowned at my sister and held up my hand. "Stop it. I know how you feel. You don't need to tell me again. Just help me. Just be there for me. Can you do that?"

Tandy looked at me and then sighed. "Of course I can, sweetheart. Where do you want to go?"

I thought about that. I knew he could have gone to any one of a number of bars and sat there getting drunker and drunker, but Coleman had told me that he was mad when he'd been told he had to go to rehab, again, and that he was reportedly mad when he walked out. I knew there was quite a stash of booze at the cabin and my guess was that he had headed up there to drown his anger and sulk in private. "The cabin," I whispered.

Tandy nodded. "Let's go then."

And so that was why we were on Highway 24 headed northwest towards Kentucky that gorgeous spring afternoon.


	2. Chapter 2

I directed Tandy down the rural road that led to the cabin. I could see on her face that she didn't understand this fascination with the slower side of life. We had been born and raised in Nashville, in Belle Meade, in fact. Daddy was a mega-successful businessman and Mom was, well, Mom was just Mom. She never seemed to fit in to the Belle Meade life, even though she had been born into it too. Tandy was a carbon copy of Daddy. Smart, with a great head for business. No surprise that she joined Daddy's company once she got out of college. She was determined and no-nonsense. She was a city girl through and through and she really didn't have an interest in country life.

I was more like Mom, I guess, although I felt like I hardly knew her. She'd died when I was twelve, which wasn't an age at which you had a lot of great insight into your parents. But, although she was part of a wealthy Belle Meade legacy, she apparently was more of a free spirit. I could only imagine how difficult it must have been for her living in Lamar Wyatt's high-powered orbit. I had never felt like I'd fit in either. Somehow I knew she would have understood why Deacon and I loved getting away to this place and decompressing from the high stress world of country music. A chance to get away from the competitiveness, wondering if your next record would be a success or a stiff, knowing that if you failed, you could be an afterthought.

Finally we got to the turn off to the cabin. As we drove up the dirt drive, my heart was in my throat and I held my breath. What if he wasn't here after all? But as we rounded a slight bend, I let myself breathe. There was his truck. Parked askew, with the driver side door open, but it was there. When Tandy parked the car, I jumped out. Tandy hurried to catch up with me.

"Well, he's here. Thank God," I said as I hurried up towards the porch. Through the window though I could see Deacon pick up a bottle and take a long draw on it. From what I could see, he'd been there a while and had worked on trashing the place. Tandy grabbed my arm and stopped me from moving forward.

"Right, and so now we know. He bailed on rehab. He made it home safe and sound. Let's go." Tandy's voice was firm and without compassion.

Deacon was still moving around inside, being destructive both to things and to himself. My initial impulse was to run to him, to gather him in my arms and try to soothe him. Sometimes that worked and calmed him down. Not always, but I wanted to let him know I was here and that I'd stand by him. Old habit, I knew. Bad habit. "I know. But I need to talk to him." I looked beseechingly at Tandy, who was unemotional. Tears formed in my eyes.

Tandy shook her head firmly. "What you need is to just let him go. Come on."

The tears came. I looked back through the window. Deacon hadn't seen us and didn't know we were there. I saw him pick up a bottle and take a long drink from it. I turned back to Tandy. I knew my voice was shaky with my emotions. "I mean, I'm pregnant. It's probably his. I need to just, I need to at least talk to him," I pleaded.

Tandy turned at the sound of breaking bottles inside the house. I could tell by the set of her jaw and the tightening of her lips that she had no sympathy for Deacon. Under normal circumstances, I might not have either, but the baby changed everything. I had always felt that Deacon and I were a part of each other, but now I literally had a part of him growing inside me. His baby. Our baby. It changed everything. Didn't it?

I knew I was pleading, giving in to my emotions. "He needs help, you know. I mean, he's sick." My eyes were begging my sister to understand.

"And you've tried to help him. But you cannot help somebody who doesn't want to help himself." Tandy gestured towards Deacon skulking through the cabin, alternately drinking and trashing the place. "You want _him_ to be the father? Do you have any idea what could happen to you and that baby if he was?"

I looked at Tandy, who was eyeing me closely. I turned back to look through the window at Deacon, oblivious to us and apparently anything else except his destructiveness. He continued to smash things, continued to stop periodically for a swallow from the bottle. I could see him lurching through the house, unsteady. I knew that before long he would stumble into the living room and fall onto the couch and pass out. I took a breath, thinking about whether that would be the life we would have together and what I would say to our child about that. I looked down as tears ran down my face. Tandy gently put her arm around me, turned me back towards the car, and led me away from the carnage inside the cabin.

* * *

I let Tandy put me in the passenger seat and then sat numbly as she got in herself and started the car. She backed out and headed back down the drive to the main road. We hadn't gone far when I mumbled, "Stop the car."

Tandy looked at me. "What?"

"Stop the car!" I was gritting my teeth. She pulled over and the car had barely stopped, when I opened the door, stumbled out, and fell onto my knees, puking my guts out. Tandy got out and hurried around to me. She knelt beside me, smoothing my hair back and holding me close. When I was done and merely crying, she gave me some tissues to wipe off my mouth and then gave me a bottle of water to rinse the sour taste out.

"Are you ok, babe?" she asked soothingly, as she rubbed my arms.

I shook my head. "I'm so scared for him, Tandy."

Tandy hugged me silently. I could feel her take a deep breath and exhale slowly. "Come on, Rayna," she said finally, in a soft voice. "Let's go home."

We didn't talk much on the way home, until we were about a half hour outside of Nashville. "Thank you for going out there with me," I said to my sister.

"Of course, babe. You know I'd do anything for you. I'm just sorry you had to see that."

I frowned. "It isn't the first time I've seen that, Tandy. That was my life for a long time. I knew how to deal with it. Mostly." I sighed. "This is the first time he hasn't made it through rehab. That he's come home and fallen off the wagon right away. I don't understand what's different this time. I don't know what to do to help him."

Tandy looked out the window. I was pretty sure she was rolling her eyes. "Rayna, it's not your job to help him. Not anymore. You need to wash your hands of Deacon Claybourne. Once and for all. You have a good man in Teddy Conrad, who loves you and treats you right. You're going to have a baby. Speaking of which, have you decided what you're going to do about that? What you're going to tell Teddy?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. How do I tell Teddy that I'm having a baby and it's not his?"

Tandy was silent for a long moment. "Do you have to do that? I know you told me that y'all used protection, but a condom isn't 100%."

I winced. I had a hard time talking about sex as nonchalantly as she did. Which was funny, since Deacon and I had had an incredibly lusty sex life. Until Teddy, Deacon was the only man I'd ever had sex with. And maybe because I was so inexperienced and so in love with him, I let him take the lead. He had taught me to love experimenting, to be uninhibited. We had a hard time keeping our hands off each other and very few days went by when we didn't have sex multiple times. Deacon made me feel sexy and desirable and all I wanted to do was please him in any way possible. But I couldn't talk about it. Except with Deacon. I couldn't bring myself to experiment or even suggest it with Teddy. Which seemed to be ok with him. I sighed. "I had a diaphragm," I said quietly. "I think that makes it impossible to be Teddy's." I had actually continued to use it and it had become more uncomfortable recently. Which had made me decline to have sex with Teddy as often.

Tandy looked at me with surprise. "Oh my God, babe, what were you doing during sex ed class? You are so naïve. It could still have happened. Even if both you and Teddy were using protection. Not as likely, of course, but possible. So it _could_ be his. You can tell him about the failure rates and how it's possible for you to have gotten pregnant."

"Tandy, I can't lie to Teddy."

"So you want to tell him the truth? 'Teddy, I'm pregnant, but I stupidly had sex with Deacon one night without any protection, so it's probably his.' Is that what you want to say?"

I scowled at my sister. "I wouldn't be that cold about it. But I feel like I have to tell him the truth. It wouldn't be right for me to lie to him."

Tandy shook her head. "I know you're going to do what you want. But I think you should just tell him you're pregnant and not tell him about Deacon. Tell him your doctor told you that no birth control method is foolproof and surprise! We're having a baby!" She smiled brightly, as though it were just that simple.

I snatched up one of the ginger hard candies and popped it in my mouth. I was feeling a little nauseous after this little conversation. I was beginning to realize that Deacon was a mess and that, when it was just me, it was my choice to deal with him. But I had a baby to think about now and Tandy was right, much as I hated to admit it. When he was drinking, Deacon was unreliable. Could I trust him to take care of a baby on his own? Or a child of any age? I was starting to feel despair. I had hoped somehow that maybe this would be what it would take for Deacon to straighten up. But what if it wasn't? I knew he loved me, more than anyone in his life, but I hadn't been enough to keep him sober. I didn't think I could risk it. But I couldn't lie to Teddy. That wouldn't be right.

I hated thinking that everyone was right about Deacon. I had refused to listen to anyone – Tandy, Daddy, Bucky, Coleman – when they told me that they didn't think Deacon was capable of staying sober. That he was dragging me down with him every time he took a drink, every time he made a mess of his life, every time he failed. I didn't want to hear it. I loved him, I believed in him, I wanted to support him, I needed him. I had told myself that I wouldn't go back again, that I was really done with the rollercoaster life had become. As much as I hated to admit it, it turned out that everyone else was right about this. Again.


	3. Chapter 3

When I woke up, I laid in bed for a few minutes enjoying the fact that the morning sickness had gone away. It had stopped a couple weeks ago, thankfully. I still hadn't told Teddy. I didn't know exactly what to say. Tandy had been nagging me for weeks about it, ever since that day we had driven out to the cabin, but I couldn't find the right words. I knew I needed to do it soon. I was 12 weeks pregnant. It had been 5 weeks since she and I had driven to the cabin to find Deacon. 5 weeks since I hadn't told Deacon he was the father of my baby. Probably. Possibly, Tandy said. Wishful thinking on her part.

It was also 3 weeks since Deacon had gone back to rehab. Kicking and screaming and mad as hell about it and mad as hell at me, but he went. Coleman had taken him and had handled everything so that I didn't have to see him. All I did was write the check. For the fifth time. This was a 6 month program, one that I hoped would knock some sense into him. He had promised this time he would see it through, even though he wasn't happy about it. I had told Coleman to tell him I was firing him from my band and unless he did this and stayed sober, he would never play in my band again. I wasn't sure that would be enough and I wasn't sure that I would, or could, have him back in my band ever again. We would have to wait and see.

One thing I had decided was that I wasn't going to tell Deacon about the baby. Not now. Maybe not for a long time. Or forever. It would really depend on what happened when I told Teddy. And when Deacon got out of rehab. And if Deacon could actually stay sober this time. I told myself that if he made it for a year, I'd tell him. Or maybe two years. Or five. I wasn't sure. I needed to be certain that he could stay sober before I could let him be responsible for our child.

It was early summer. Still not hot in Nashville, but my hormones made me feel warm, so I was laying under a sheet naked with the ceiling fan on. I always slept naked, ever since I had moved in with Deacon. When Teddy stayed over, I wore a t shirt and work out shorts or sweats. It felt weird to just be naked around Teddy the way I was with Deacon. It was hard to do anything with Teddy that was at all like what I did with Deacon. Even though I was trying to put Deacon behind me, I couldn't remove him from my heart.

I tried not to think about Deacon too much because when I did I always felt the way I did right now. I could feel how he touched me. On my breasts. Between my legs. His breath on my neck. His mouth on mine or on my stomach. His tongue sliding into me….I sat up quickly. No. I couldn't think about that. Instead I got up and walked into the bathroom. I stood in front of the mirror and looked at my profile. My breasts had gotten larger. They were sensitive to the touch. I cupped them in my hands, feeling the fullness. Then I slid one hand down to my stomach. I felt the hard little pooch. I ran my hand over the gentle rounding that hadn't been there a couple weeks ago. No wonder my pants didn't fit anymore. I had to wear dresses and skirts because my pants were too tight.

I sighed. I put both hands protectively over my pregnant belly, thinking about the baby inside. I had to tell Teddy. Now. I couldn't wait any longer. I still didn't know how to tell him, but I would have to figure it out. He was taking me to dinner and I would tell him then. Or afterwards. Yes, we'd have dinner and then he'd bring me home and I would tell him.

* * *

I took extra time getting ready that night. I spent more time on my hair and makeup. I wore a sundress with a full skirt. As I waited for Teddy I tried to think through what I would say. When the doorbell rang, my heart skipped a beat. I went to the door and smoothed down my dress and rearranged my hair over my shoulders. Then I opened the door and Teddy smiled. "Hey, there," he said.

"Hey." I tried smiling but it felt awkward. I stepped aside and let him in.

He took my hand, leaned in, and kissed me. "You look beautiful, as always," he said, smiling broadly with a twinkle in his eye.

I breathed in and squeezed his hand. "Can we sit down for a minute first?"

He looked at his watch. "Sure. We have a little time. But our reservation's at seven."

We probably aren't going to make that. I had decided that I couldn't wait. I was too antsy and he'd ask lots of questions about what was going on. Better to do it now. We sat on the couch and I turned to face him. I bit my lip. Tears sprang to my eyes.

Teddy looked concerned. "What's wrong, Rayna?"

"I, uh," I looked at him, then away, then back, "I'm pregnant, Teddy."

He looked stunned. He swallowed hard. "But, I thought…."

"Yes, we used protection." I looked down and away. Tears started to roll down my cheeks. "I was weak one night. I didn't mean for it to happen, but it did." I looked back at him. He looked confused. "I'm so sorry, Teddy."

He shook his head as though trying to reorganize his thoughts. "I don't understand."

I sighed. "I, uh, I went to see Deacon one night. To talk about the cabin. And I…." I was overcome with tears.

Teddy frowned. "And you slept with him?" I nodded mutely. "So," he went on, "so it's his?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. For sure. It's possible it's yours. No birth control is 100%." Tandy would have proud of me for saying that.

Teddy looked angry and hurt. "But it's probably his. That's what you're saying."

I shrugged. "I don't know. I guess. Maybe." He pulled his hand from mine and I clasped both my hands in my lap.

Teddy took a deep breath and exhaled. "So are you telling me that you're going back to him?"

I looked up. "No. I'm not. I already decided I can't. But…I don't know what to do."

Teddy stood up and walked over to the window. "You're not going back to him?" he asked as he stared out the window.

"No, Teddy, I can't. He's still sick. I can't risk having a child around that. I haven't even told him about it." I fidgeted with my hands. "I just wanted you to know, in case…."

He turned back. "In case what?"

"In case you didn't want to have anything to do with me." I wept silently.

After a few minutes, I felt him sit back down on the couch and pull me into his arms. I cried harder and he just sat and held me. Then he kissed the top of my head. "Rayna, I can't say I'm not disappointed," he said quietly. "But if you really can't be with him, I want to help."

I looked in his face and saw compassion replace the anger. I could still see some hurt in his eyes, but at least he wasn't angry. "I really can't, Teddy."

"How far along are you?"

"Twelve weeks."

He took in a quick breath. "Wow." He looked thoughtful. "Well, we need to make a plan quick. So, what if we get married? It would have to be at a justice of the peace to do it fast. And we'll do a paternity test after the baby's born."

"What if it…."

Teddy shook his head. "I'm the father. No matter what."

I was shocked. I hadn't expected that. "Rayna, you've suffered enough with Deacon. He has screwed your life up for no good reason. I'm going to take care of you and the baby and keep you both safe from that life." He looked at me. "I want you to promise me that you'll never tell him the truth. If he turns out to be the biological father."

I caught my breath. "I don't know, Teddy. I think at some point he needs to know."

Teddy firmly shook his head. "No. That's my condition. I will marry you and love you and this baby. I will never treat this baby like it's anything but mine. But I need you to promise."

I was startled. I wasn't sure I could do that. A big part of me felt strongly that someday Deacon did need to know about our child. And I did still love him. God help me. I loved Teddy and I loved what he was doing for me but to promise _never_ to tell Deacon was hard. "I don't know, Teddy," I whispered.

"Rayna, do you want that child to grow up with an alcoholic for a father?"

"But, Teddy, he's in rehab. This could be the time he makes it."

"How many times has he been in rehab?"

I looked down. "Five," I said sadly. I knew what Teddy was saying. Chances were good that Deacon would never be able to stay sober. The odds were not in his favor after all this time and after all these tries. It felt wrong to keep something like this from him forever, but I really did need to think about the baby. I wanted my baby to have the best life possible. And I knew Teddy would provide that. So reluctantly, I nodded. "Ok. I won't tell him."

Teddy took me in his arms. "I'll make you happy, Rayna. I promise. I love you."

I put my arms around him and lay my head on his chest. "I love you too, babe," I whispered. But my heart was breaking. I wish it was just as simple as Teddy made it sound.

* * *

Teddy and I went to get a marriage license the next day. Two days later we went to the justice of the peace in Cheatham County to get married. Tandy and my manager Bucky went with us as our witnesses. Tandy was thrilled. I had told her about the deal I'd made with Teddy and she agreed it was the only way. I tried to smile and nod, but I felt such sadness inside. I felt like I was turning my back on Deacon and that felt wrong on so many levels. But I had to concentrate on the baby and that was the only thing that kept me from changing my mind.

After the ceremony, Teddy and I went home to his condo. Tandy and I had moved my things over there the day before. Teddy went into the kitchen to fix some dinner for us. I went into the bedroom to change clothes. I went to my underwear drawer, a place I knew Teddy would never bother, and from underneath a stack of panties I pulled out a small cloth drawstring bag. Coleman had given it to me, told me that Deacon had wanted me to have it. He had given it to Cole the day he went into rehab. I turned it over in my hands several times. The day Cole gave it to me and I had opened it, I had cried. I wanted to believe that this was the time Deacon would beat his demons. But as much as I wanted that, I was so tired of hoping and praying and being disappointed. It had felt like our relationship had been in a tailspin for a while and that it was dying a slow death. I needed to move on; I was moving on. Teddy would give me a good life, would provide well for the baby and would be a good father. If it wasn't the fireworks and passion I'd had with Deacon, maybe that was ok. Because as wonderful as that had been for so many years, it was also just a slow dance to despair.

I opened the bag and pulled out the ring and the note. It was the ring Deacon had given me that night at the cabin, when he had proposed to me, and then hadn't remembered. I had been so angry at him and I had thrown the ring at him. I remembered him crawling on the floor to find it and saying over and over "what question, baby, what question?" I had screamed at him that he'd asked me to marry him, but that clearly it hadn't meant anything to him. He begged me not to leave him, insisted that he did want to marry me, but I couldn't bear it any longer and had left.

So he had sent it to me, along with a note that read "This is my promise that I will make it work this time. Deacon." I felt tears and brushed them away. I put the ring and the note back in the bag and buried it in the drawer. I went in the bathroom and dabbed at my eyes with a tissue and then fluffed my hair. I took a couple of deep breaths and then I smiled at myself in the mirror.

Then I walked out to the kitchen to see my new husband.


	4. Chapter 4

This thing with Deacon has been going on almost as long as I've known him. When I met him, I'd just turned 16 and he was 19. Watty introduced us. I was just getting started, singing around town, and Deacon had been in Nashville for a couple years. Watty had told me I had a great voice, but I couldn't really play a guitar worth a lick and my songwriting was childish (his words!). He had told me I needed someone to play guitar for me and to help me write songs. When he took me to listen to Deacon, I was really blown away by how good he was. Although Deacon was polite, he didn't seem all that interested in working with me. But Watty kind of insisted and people just don't say no to Watty White. After we'd spent a little time together, we discovered that we were a good fit for each other.

I think I had a crush on Deacon before he thought about me that way, although he always said that wasn't true. But he was kind of intimidated by the fact that I was 16 and that my daddy was kind of a big deal in Nashville. Daddy never liked Deacon, although he didn't take the time to get to know him. And, of course, Daddy had kicked me out less than six months after I'd met Deacon. I didn't have anyone else, so Deacon took me in. Well, _he_ didn't actually take me in, but he found me a place to stay with Carmen, a girl he knew.

Deacon was always a drinker, but when I first knew him he didn't get drunk much. Or at least not as bad as he did later on. He and his friend Vince would party a lot and actually Vince was a bigger drinker than Deacon was, in those days. I was too young, at 16, to drink legally – so were they for that matter – but when we sat around Deacon and Vince's apartment, they always poured me drinks. I was such a lightweight. One drink and I was tipsy, two drinks and I was kind of drunk, more than that and I'd pass out. Eventually I could hold my liquor better, but I could never keep up with Vince and Deacon.

Probably around the time Deacon and I finally moved in together, on my 18th birthday, he would come home really drunk several times a week. He and Vince liked to party and party hard. The difference was that Vince was one of those people who just got loud and boisterous and funny when he got drunk; Deacon got sullen and mean. I had to make sure I didn't drink too much when I was with them, because I'd have to make sure everyone got home ok and that Deacon didn't get into a fight with someone.

I didn't realize for a long time that Deacon was having trouble with his drinking. He didn't drink constantly, but when he drank, he always overdid it. At first, he only drank on nights we weren't playing somewhere, but before too long he would start having a few drinks before a show. We were starting to get noticed and get radio airplay and it bothered me that sometimes he'd miss a riff or blow a line or just whiff a verse because he was drunk on stage. When I would say something to him about it, he'd get mad and stomp around. We would fight and he would get mean. Then he missed a show. I couldn't find him anywhere and I was frantic. But I didn't have time to look for him and had to get one of my other guitarists to fill in for him. I was on edge throughout the show and couldn't wait for it to be over, so I could go looking for him. I was scared and I was mad. I found him in a bar not far from the place where we played, passed out in a booth. Unfortunately, it wasn't the last time I had to hunt him down someplace.

I put him in rehab the first time when I was 21. Too young to have to deal with that kind of thing. He cried when I told him he had to go and he promised me he would never do that to me again. He was so apologetic when he got out and he swore to me that he would stay clean. It's amazing how wonderful you can feel when you think you've conquered a big problem. And he did. We both did. He was so grateful to me for sticking by him and loving him through it all, that he surprised me with the cabin. I had been nominated for a CMA award for the first time and was supposed to go to practice for the show. But Deacon had this big surprise for me and he promised he'd have me back in Nashville in time. I got worried as we drove out of town on highway 24. And kept driving.

"Deacon, where are we going? You know I need to be at practice at 4:00." I was clueless as to where we were going or what he had planned.

He reached over and took my hand, squeezing it gently. He smiled broadly. "It's a surprise, baby. You're gonna love it. I promise."

I smiled back at him. He looked so good, so healthy, so amazing. I was so proud of him for beating this. "You're crazy, Deacon Claybourne, you know that. You promise I'll be back in Nashville on time?"

He laughed at me. "Yes, ma'am, you'll be back in time. We're almost there." We'd been driving for about an hour and a half or so. It was a little after noon.

When we parked in front of this adorable house on the lake, I couldn't believe it. Deacon led me in and I was entranced. It was a dream come true kind of place; just the kind of place we had always talked about getting. A place where we could de-stress after a tour, where we could get away from the competitiveness of the music business, a place to reconnect. It was my dream house. When Deacon told me he had bought it, I felt a little chill of apprehension. No big gestures, no major decisions coming out of rehab, we'd been told. I loved his excitement, but was nervous that he had taken on too much too soon.

But I wasn't going to burst his bubble. I did mention the no big decisions, but he was so sweet and he told me how much he appreciated that I had stood with him, that he didn't deserve me, and that he wanted to do something for me to show me how much he loved me. We even christened it on the kitchen counter before we left to drive back to Nashville. How could I say no after that? I thought this might be a good place for us to come whenever things got a little crazy and he was feeling a little pushed. Maybe this would be the place that would help him stay focused. I wasn't too worried this time. I was sure that this trip to rehab was all it was going to take to get him back on track. I couldn't even imagine that it would ever be an issue for us again.

The cabin at the lake did turn out to be haven for us. It was cozy and romantic, off the beaten track. It was the perfect hideaway. Even though Deacon and I were always together anyway, it was somehow different to be together away from Nashville. And away from temptations.

But unfortunately, it didn't last. Not quite three months later, he was drinking again. At first, not a lot and it didn't interfere with things but over time it got worse and worse. He couldn't go out with Vince without drinking and he couldn't stop going out with Vince. I argued with Vince about it. Vince would promise that he wouldn't let Deacon drink, but when Vince was drinking, it was hard for Deacon not to and impossible for Vince to police him.

I went to a meeting at the label one morning and when I came home, Deacon was gone. A note on the kitchen table said "gone fishing". I didn't like it. It made me nervous for him to go off by himself like that. Since I knew he was drinking again, it worried me. I thought about driving up to the cabin, because I was sure that's where he was, but would he think I didn't trust him?

After dark, I got a call from the jail in a border county. Deacon had been arrested for a DUI. My heart sank. I drove to pick him up. Even though he tried apologizing to me, I brushed him off and wouldn't talk to him on the drive back to Nashville. I was so angry. Mostly at him, but also at myself for not being able to keep him under control. Back in those days, I felt like I had a responsibility to keep him sober. It wasn't until later that I found out that I didn't.

* * *

I sent him a second time to rehab. Again he was apologetic. He begged me to forgive him. I was so weak when it came to him. He would look at me with those sad eyes full of remorse and he would tell me how sorry he was. And he would reach for me and the feel of his hands on me, his body pressing against mine, and my protests and arguments would fade away as he made love to me, even though his kisses tasted of whiskey. I knew I had let things go too long this time, but when he was making me scream in ecstasy, it was hard to send him away.

But I did send him away again. And welcomed him back once more. But this time I watched him more carefully. _I_ was more careful. I was less trusting of his promises. When he came home he was more subdued and he worked harder at his program. But almost six months later, he left the house with Vince when I was out doing a radio interview. I found them at a bar and pulled Deacon out. He yelled at me all the way home and then he begged me to forgive him. When he crawled into bed with me and began to touch me, I knew that I would. I loved him too much. I needed him too much.

I was dying inside though, a little more every time he got drunk. Every time he told me he was sorry. Every time he disappointed me by missing a gig or messing up a song. I loved him more than breathing and I couldn't imagine my life without him, but what he was doing to himself was killing me a little bit every day. I couldn't understand why he kept doing this, why he didn't think he could stop. It felt a little like I was grieving a loss every time he lost control.

He tried to get back on track and it would stick for a few weeks and then he'd fall off the wagon again. The time between lapses got shorter and shorter and before long I was pulling him out of bars, out of hotels, bailing him out of jail. We argued more and more. We went to the cabin less and less and when we did, we fought. About his drinking. About my lack of trust. About what he was doing with his life. About whether I could keep doing this.

Until finally I couldn't. And I sent him back a third time.


	5. Chapter 5

_**I don't typically write explicit sex scenes, but this chapter really felt like it needed it, so hope it's not too cheesy.**_

The third time I sent him to rehab, he fought me. He yelled and screamed and trashed the kitchen, breaking almost every plate and glass we had. He called me names and slammed the door on the way out of the house for one last bender with Vince. He was gone for three days before he tried sneaking back in the house in the middle of the night. Except he was so wasted, he tripped over furniture and swore loudly, waking me up from a fitful sleep. I had been so scared and was so worn out from crying that when he fell into the bed, I pulled him to me in a grateful hug, just glad he was alive. And I cried silently as I let him kiss me and arouse me with his fingers and then take me roughly in his drunkenness and his need. As mad and as hurt as I was, my body betrayed me that night, as always, as we made love over and over until he finally rolled away from me and passed out. I was worn out and sore when I finally fell asleep as dawn was breaking.

When I woke up again, sunlight had filled the room. I rolled over and saw that Deacon was gone. I panicked and jumped out of bed. But he was sitting in the living room, looking sad, and I felt such relief that he hadn't left. I walked over to him and straddled his lap, taking him in my hands and stroking him until he could enter me. He reached his hand behind my neck and pulled my face to his, kissing me hard, putting his other hand on the small of my back and pressing me into him. We rocked back and forth in rhythm with each other one last time before Coleman came to pick him up.

I remembered standing on the steps, holding Deacon in my embrace one final time, Coleman waiting not so patiently on the sidewalk by his car. I took Deacon's face in my hands and looked deeply into his eyes, full of pain and remorse. "You can do this, babe," I whispered to him. "I know you can."

His hands were at my waist and he pulled me closer. "I want to, baby," he said hoarsely. "I want you to be proud of me. I know I don't deserve you."

"Deacon, I love you. I'll always be here for you." Although I wasn't sure that was a hundred percent correct anymore. This was wearing me down. I wasn't sure I could keep going through this, but I also didn't want to lose him. He was my life. My love. My everything.

Deacon looked at me seriously. "I promise, Ray. This time is it."

I nodded. The lump in my throat was so huge I couldn't speak.

"Deacon," Coleman called.

Deacon sighed heavily and kissed me, hard. He pulled away slowly, grabbing my hand and raising it to his lips with a final kiss. And he turned and was gone from me. Again. I watched him walk down to Coleman's car, as tears streamed down my face. I watched him get in the car and then turn to look at me through the window. I watched as Coleman pulled away from the curb and took Deacon far away for the third time. When the car was out of sight, I sank down on the steps and put my face in my hands, sobbing until I nearly made myself sick.

* * *

The first time I thought about leaving him was two years ago, after he'd gotten out of rehab the third time. When Deacon was clean and sober, he was everything I wanted. He was the sexiest man I'd ever seen and I was hungry for him all the time. It was a Saturday, about six months after he'd been back home, and we'd spent most of the day in bed, like we usually did. We couldn't get enough of each other. But I had an album release party for Pam Tillis to go to that night. Deacon didn't like going to those and would only go if it was my album, so I was going without him. He said he was going to work on some songs.

I was standing naked in the bathroom putting on my makeup. He walked in and pressed himself against my back, so that I could feel his erection against my ass. His hands covered my breasts, caressing and teasing them until I was moaning with need. Unconsciously I was grinding against him, feeling him grow even harder and more insistent. He ran one hand down my stomach and slid one, then two fingers inside me, filling me up, the tightness feeling unbelievably amazing, his other hand continuing to play with my nipple. I dropped my makeup brush into the sink as his fingers swirled inside me and little quivers of pleasure started to spiral out through my body. I put my own hand over his, pressing him deep into me, moaning with desire as I helped him find just the right place to touch me. When we were both close to the edge, he groaned loudly, pulled his hands to my waist and bent me forward slightly, entering me from behind. I grabbed the sink and moved with him as he thrust into me over and over and over again. We both came loudly and then, breathing hard, we stood that way for several minutes, him still deep inside me. I moved my hips against him as I felt the last exquisitely painful quivers. I could hear him suck in his breath and moan lightly until finally, breathing hard, he pulled out. I felt weak and gripped the sink to steady myself.

Deacon turned me around and kissed me. "Oh, baby, you are so good," he murmured into my mouth. He rubbed his hands over my bottom and pulled me close to him, continuing to massage me, kissing me more deeply. Suddenly he was hard again and I laughed softly against his mouth. He reached under my ass and lifted me up onto the sink, entering me quickly once again. I wrapped my legs around his waist and let him move in and out of me quickly, until we came again, together. And then he gently helped me down, turned me around and gave me a light tap on the ass. "You better get ready, baby. The sooner you go, the sooner you come back to me." I smiled at him in the mirror. My face was flushed and my hair was a mess, but I was happy.

It was a long time before we had another day that seemed that idyllic.

* * *

When I was ready to leave for the party, he was sitting on the couch with his guitar, picking through some melodies. I sat down next to him for a minute, curling my legs up underneath me, resting my hands across each other on his shoulder, leaning my chin on my hands. He turned his head towards me and smiled. "Don't stay too late, baby," he said. "I'll miss you."

I smiled back. He was doing so well this time and we were so happy. I felt so sure that this was the time he'd make it. Third time's the charm and all. "I won't," I replied. "I don't have as much fun without you anyway." I kissed him lightly and then got up. Even though I believed he was going to make it this time, I tried not to leave him on his own much. I always worried that Vince would come sniffing around, even though I had firmly told him to stay away unless I was there. But Deacon seemed good and so I left for the party with only a small amount of worry.

The party was fun. Pam was someone that I liked and admired a lot. I was probably closer to her than any other female artist, so I had really wanted to come out and support her that night. But I wasn't having as much fun without Deacon so, although I stayed a little longer than I had planned, I still left early and was home before 10:30. My heart sank as I drove up and saw the lights out and Deacon's truck gone. I started to feel apprehensive as I walked in, turning on lights. When I walked into the living room, I saw two glasses on the coffee table and an empty Jack Daniels bottle. I felt sick to my stomach.

I sank down on my knees on the floor and then wrapped my arms around my waist, bending over in anguish. I felt like I was going to throw up. I knew he had to be with Vince. I didn't want to have to go out looking for him. I couldn't believe I was going to have to do this again. _Why, Deacon? Why can't you stay sober? How long are we going to do this? How much more of this can I take?_

I finally got up, picked up my keys and purse, and headed back out. I drove to the places Deacon and Vince liked to go. I finally found Deacon's truck at the fourth bar I went to. It was a total dive bar and I had to put up with wolf whistles and grabbing hands and the occasional "hell, it's fuckin' Rayna Jaymes!" before I found him slumped over a table near the back.

I poked his arm. Hard. "Deacon!" I shouted over the music. "Deacon!"

He lifted his head slightly, opening one eye. "What?" he snarled.

"Deacon, what the hell are you doing here?"

He opened both eyes and then slowly and unsteadily pushed himself up a little more. He squinted at me. "Oh, shit, Ray," he slurred. I could tell he wasn't able to really focus. "I'm sorry, Ray."

I was furious. "Damn it, Deacon, what the hell are you doing? Why are you here? Where's Vince?"

He looked around, dragging his arm across his face, and then propped himself unsteadily on one arm. "Vince!" he called out. He turned back towards me. "Hell, Ray, I don't know where he is."

At this point, I didn't really care about Vince. "What are you doing here?" I asked again.

Deacon looked confused for a moment. "Just hangin' out." He smiled crookedly.

I scowled at him. "Get up. We're going." I grabbed his arm.

He pulled his arm away roughly and glared at me. "What the fuck?" he shouted. "Get off me!"

He was mad but so was I. I reached for his arm again. "Deacon, let's go home," I said firmly.

He scowled at me and then looked around. "Where's Vince?" he slurred. "Hey, where's Vince?" he shouted to the bartender.

The bartender walked around the bar, closer to us. "He's gone, man. Left maybe an hour ago. You told him you wanted to stay." He jerked his head towards me. "Let your lady take you home, man. Sleep it off."

Deacon looked confused. Then he looked up at me. "Come on, Deacon. Let's go home," I said, feeling weary.

Deacon tried to stand, stumbling as he did. I grabbed his arm to steady him. Then I pulled it around my neck and over my shoulder, while holding on to his waist. He leaned heavily against me, stinking of whiskey and sweat. Once again I was dragging him out of a bar. The first time always felt the worst. All that hope and promise and all those dreams just shattered. I felt tears threaten but they were mostly tears of anger. As we made our way out the door, I heard someone inside say, "Goddamn, Rayna Jaymes' fuckin' boyfriend's a shit-faced drunk," and then laughter. I felt a pain in my heart but, more than that, I felt a white hot rage. I couldn't believe Deacon had done this again.

That was the first time I seriously thought about dumping Deacon Claybourne's drunk ass and walking away.


	6. Chapter 6

But I didn't leave him then. I actually stayed with him for another year or so. But not because he straightened himself out. And not because I forgave him his lapses. I didn't leave him because that was the night Vince was killed and I couldn't leave Deacon alone. Because I was afraid if I did, Deacon would kill himself.

* * *

I had gotten Deacon home and into bed, where he passed out. Which was fine with me, since I was furious at him. In the past when he would have his first lapse after rehab, I would comfort him and try to be understanding and helpful. But this time I was just mad. I'm not sure why it was different this time, but I was so tired of all this. I still loved Deacon with all my heart, but I was beginning to wonder if he could ever lick this disease. I couldn't understand why it was so hard for him. I had supported him for so long but there were times when I sat with him while he slept off his latest drunk and I wondered if I was really up for this for the rest of my life.

Tandy thought I was crazy to keep doing this over and over again. She would tell me that I was a fool to spend my life taking care of a drunk. I would tell her that I had to, that I loved Deacon more than life itself. She would roll her eyes and tell me that I was ruining my life. There were times when I thought about June Carter Cash and how she had lived this same kind of life with Johnny Cash. They had somehow managed to make it work, even though Johnny periodically fell off the wagon. I often wondered if June had figured out something that I had not or maybe I just wasn't as strong as she was, or something. But the fact that they did make it work had encouraged me, and that little fairytale kept me going. Kept me hanging in there.

But there were nights like these when I thought that I just couldn't do it. I couldn't live like this for the rest of my life. I wanted more. I wanted a real life with Deacon. I had wondered if we would ever get married, have a family. We had never talked about that, really, in all the years we'd been together. He had never seemed to want to. He had talked a handful of times about the fact that his parents had had a terrible marriage and he hinted at the fact that there had been violence in the marriage, but he didn't seem to want to talk about it and I had never pressed. Of course, my own parents had had a tough marriage and then Mom had died when I was twelve, so I didn't have good role models either.

I knew that trying to have a family when you were on the road was hard and, truth be told, I actually kind of liked being able to pick up and go when we wanted to. Sometimes I thought about children, but I was still pretty young, just twenty-five, so it wasn't too late. I also thought, when things were really bad with Deacon, that it would be a hard life for a child. So, it was confusing, and I was confused.

I had just laid down next to Deacon when I heard the banging on the door. I sat up and swore quietly. I thought it was probably Vince and I knew I was going to go off on him. I looked over at Deacon and he was lightly snoring, a sure sign that he was completely passed out. _Good,_ I thought, _at least Vince won't be able to drag him back out._

But when I got to the door, buttoning one of Deacon's flannel shirts, it wasn't Vince at the door. It was Carmen and she looked devastated, her face streaked with tears and mascara. "Carmen! What's going on?" I didn't want to let her in, so I walked out on the porch.

Carmen grabbed me by the arms. She and Vince were each other's "friend with benefits". They had been a couple back when I first met them, but they were better friends than lovers, although they were always each other's go to person between relationships. "Oh my God, Rayna, Vince is….he's dead!" Her voice went up an octave as she said the last two words.

"What?!" I felt like I'd been kicked in the stomach. I couldn't believe I was hearing those words. "Are you serious?"

Carmen kind of collapsed then and I had to grab her by the arms to hold her up. She was sobbing. I walked her over to the porch swing, my head swirling with the thought that Vince was dead. How could this have happened? What happened? _How was I going to tell Deacon?_ We sat on the swing and I held her as she sobbed. I was so stunned I didn't know what to say.

We sat there for a few minutes, Carmen sobbing, me just holding her, looking out blankly just trying to absorb the shocking thing she'd said to me. Finally I said, "What happened, Carmen?"

She sat back and wiped her face with her hands. She struggled to find her voice and when she did, it was shaky. "He was driving on Woodland Street and he just…." She struggled with the words for a minute. I wanted to shake her, to get the news out of her, but I waited her out. She looked at me with devastation in her eyes. "Rayna, he drove into a tree. I'm pretty sure he was drunk. The police said there was a bottle in the car." She started sobbing again, wrapping her arms around her waist and bending forward, grieving.

I felt sick. I was sure that it must have happened when he left Deacon at the bar. I felt a cold chill thinking that Deacon could have been in the truck with him and could have been killed too. My heart ached because I'd loved Vince too. I knew this would devastate Deacon, even more than it devastated me. He and Vince had been friends ever since they'd met when they both came to Nashville. They had been like brothers. Not only was I sad for his loss, but I was terrified. What would happen when Deacon found out? How would he react? For once, I was glad he was passed out in our bedroom. It gave me some time to figure out how to tell him and what to do afterwards.

I don't know how long I sat there on the porch, in the dark of night, my arm around Carmen, crying with her, letting her talk about Vince, and then crying some more. The sky was just lightening towards dawn when she finally got up and walked home. I sat there a while longer, tired beyond reason, thinking about Vince, thinking about Deacon. I knew it was going to be bad, but I really had no idea that night just how bad it would be.

I finally got up and went back in the house, my heart heavy, for all of us. I went into the bedroom and sat in a chair and just watched Deacon sleeping. I didn't realize I had fallen asleep there until I was woken up by the sound of Deacon throwing up in the bathroom. As I tried to block out the sound, I cried tears of sadness for my friend Vince and for my soul mate Deacon. And in that moment, somehow I knew that it was the beginning of the end for Deacon and me.

When Deacon came out of the bathroom, I was sitting on the bed. He looked rough. I debated whether or not to tell him about Vince now, but I thought I needed to go ahead and do it. I didn't want him hearing it another way or from someone else. I looked up at him as he stood next to the bed.

"I'm really sorry, baby," he said quietly. He had that sad look he always had after a lapse.

I nodded. "I know." I patted the bed beside me. "Come sit with me, babe." He looked so grateful that I didn't appear to be mad that I felt a lump in my throat. I hated that I had to tell him the news about Vince. He crawled into the bed and curled up next to me, with his head on my shoulder, his arms around me. I took a deep breath, then wrapped my own arms around him, tight. And then, as gently as I could, I told him what had happened to Vince and held him close as he cried.

* * *

I knew it was only a matter of time before Deacon started drinking again. In the days and weeks after Vince's death, I had kept him very close. I had searched for and found every bottle I could in the house and at the cabin. I knew all of Deacon's hiding places. I dropped him off at meetings and picked him up afterwards. I was determined to do all I could to keep him sober. But I knew I couldn't be there every second for the rest of our lives, so I knew it would happen sooner or later.

He tried though. He was so devastated by Vince's death. He blamed himself because he had let Vince drive off by himself that night and I knew that every fiber of his being craved a drink to mask the guilt he felt. But he wanted to get through it sober, he said. I wanted it too. One night, he pulled me to him and told me how much he loved me and how much he appreciated that I stayed with him and believed in him. Not surprisingly, as he held me, he began to kiss my neck, then moved his hands up under my blouse. I couldn't resist his mouth on mine, his fingers gently stroking my nipples. I moved my leg over his lap and moaned as he stroked me and then moved his hand down to my bare leg. I adjusted myself slightly so that I was more open to him and was rewarded when he ran his hand up my thigh and under my skirt. He slid his fingers into my panties and then into me. I moaned again as he started to swirl his fingers deep inside me. When he moved his thumb to massage me gently I pulled back so that I could look into his face. His eyes looked deeply into mine and he bit down on his lip as he worked his magic on me.

"Come on, Ray," he whispered, his fingers and thumb becoming more urgent. And then he touched me in just the right place and I came, loudly, moaning his name over and over. When I was done, he moved his hand, gripping my waist and moving me onto my back. He reached under my skirt again and pulled off my panties, then unzipped his own pants. He quickly and forcefully entered me, thrusting hard. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him in closer, so he could go deeper. His movements were rough and hard and it hurt a little. But I knew he was grieving and so I let him be as rough as he wanted to be. When he came, he ground himself into me and I felt tears in my eyes. Then he went limp and just wrapped himself around me. I lowered my legs and wrapped them around his, holding him against me and softly kissing his neck and ear.

We laid there for a long time before he finally got up and walked out on the porch. I followed him outside and we sat together on the front steps, just holding hands. It was times like these when I never wanted to leave him. Truth be told, I really didn't want to leave him at all, but it was a hard life to live, never knowing if I'd find him dead or alive. And with Vince's death, I was even more afraid of what would happen to him.

"I'm scared, Ray," Deacon said quietly.

I turned to look at him. "Scared of what?"

"Scared that I'll end up like Vince. I don't want to do that to you." He squeezed my hand. "God, I love you, Rayna. I don't ever want to lose you." He looked at me, his face full of need.

I took a deep breath. "I'm not leaving, babe. I love you too. So much." As mad as he made me when he was drinking, I loved him so much it made my heart hurt. I couldn't imagine living my life without him in it. I was determined to see him through this, but I wasn't completely sure that it would mean we stayed together. Things were coming to a head, I could feel it.

* * *

I woke up during the night and reached for Deacon. But his side of the bed was empty. I felt my stomach clench. I got up and walked through the house, then looked outside. His truck was gone. I sat on the porch swing, gently swinging, and cried.


	7. Chapter 7

_**I really appreciate those of you who have taken the time to read and review. I know this is kind of a dark story, but I'm drawn to knowing the backstories, even if I have to make them up, and it helps to have encouragement.**_

When I finally broke up with Deacon for good, I didn't even do it face-to-face. He was in jail, again, and I had left him there, left him for Coleman to handle. I called Tandy and she came and helped me move every single thing of mine out of our house and into an apartment. It wasn't the first time I had left Deacon that last year, but it was the most permanent time. Every time before I would leave with a suitcase and a few days of clothes. Once I even took most of my things and stayed gone for a week. But I always left things behind. Not always consciously, but somehow I knew all the times before that eventually I would go back. Deacon was my heart, my breath, my soul. I could not break those bonds. Not for good.

He always knew I'd come back. He never made me feel bad about it; he always took responsibility for whatever he'd done that triggered me leaving. It was probably one of the things that made it so hard to leave him for good. Maybe if he had blamed me or hated me, I would have stayed away long before it finally happened. I never _wanted_ to leave Deacon; it was always that I _needed_ to leave him. I didn't realize how dark my life had become, how destroyed I actually was, until I left for good.

* * *

The last year I spent with Deacon was a roller coaster like nothing we'd ever experienced before. The reality was that, in many ways, Deacon was better than he had been in the past. He was sober more often and for longer. I think most of that was because he didn't have Vince to tempt him down the wrong path. Without that, he didn't hit the bars as often. But the lows were so much worse. When he felt guilty, when he hung out with Carmen, when life got tough, Deacon went into some of the blackest holes I'd ever seen him go into. What made it worse was that this was when he started to forget things. When he hit those lows, he often had no idea what had happened or where he had been or what he had done.

It was during one of those episodes that he ended up in jail, after getting into a fight with a bunch of bikers at a dive bar in a seedy part of East Nashville. He had dislocated his shoulder and, because jails aren't the best place to get good medical care, a doctor gave him painkillers. Deacon and I fought about that when he got home and he swore he wouldn't take them. Much later I found out that not only did he take the pills, but he found ways to get more. So not only did I have to deal with Deacon drinking, now I had to deal with Deacon taking pills.

I met Tandy for lunch one day in early August while I was on a short tour break. She hugged me tightly. "Sweetheart, I hate to say this, but you really look rough," she said, a concerned look on her face.

At first it pissed me off, but I realized that I actually felt pretty rough. I sighed. "There's just been a lot going on." I really hated to talk to her about Deacon, because she was not at all supportive of our relationship.

She raised her eyebrows. "With Deacon?"

I rolled my eyes. "Lay off, Tandy. I'm dealing with it."

She took a breath and looked away for a moment. When she looked back, she had a steely look to her eyes. "Listen, Rayna, I know you don't want to hear this, but you need to take a really hard look at your life with Deacon. He is dragging you down every time he gets drunk, every time he disappoints you in some way. People talk. People are talking."

"People? What people? You mean Daddy?" Daddy never let an opportunity go by without criticizing Deacon and calling him trash, unworthy of me. Even though Daddy didn't think much of me either.

"No, I don't mean just Daddy. I mean all the people we know."

I shook my head. "Those are not my people, Tandy. You know that. They've _never_ been my people, so I don't really give a shit what they think about me or about Deacon." I glared at her. "I'm so tired of hearing you badmouth Deacon. I know he has his problems but he's working really hard at trying to get better. And I love him. I can't give up on him."

"Rayna, he has more than just 'problems'. He's a flat out alcoholic and he's the worst kind. One that can't seem to stay sober. How many times have you put him in rehab? Three?" She threw her hands up. "You're just throwing money away on him, babe. I know you're paying for it. I know you say you love him, but how can you love this kind of life? Never knowing if he's going to make it home at night or what he might do while he's out? What if he's out driving drunk and ends up killing somebody? Not to mention himself?" She reached for my hand. "I think you need to admit to yourself that he can't be helped."

I snatched my hand back. "No! I will never give up on Deacon. I can't give up on him." I could feel the tears and hear the catch in my voice. "He's all I have. He was there when nobody else was. I love him." I clenched my fists. "You need to stop this, Tandy, or I won't ever talk to you again." No one knew more than I did how beaten down I felt. I loved Deacon with my whole heart and giving up on him felt like such a betrayal, like the very thing that would tear my heart out. There were times when I wanted to turn my back on all of this because it was so, so hard, but I loved him too much. He was part of me, just like I was part of him.

Tandy sat back and looked tired. "Babe, I do understand how you feel about Deacon. But I worry about _you_. This kind of life is not what I want for you. Not knowing what's going to happen to him."

I knew Tandy loved me and I knew she wanted what was best for me. But, just like Daddy, she didn't really understand me. I wasn't a Belle Meade debutante. I lived for the music, just like Deacon. It was what had drawn us together in the beginning and it was the soundtrack of our lives. Even though I was successful, with a CMA and a couple of Grammys to my name, headlining arena tours, and selling millions of albums, it wasn't always a bed of roses life even in the best of times. Everything Deacon and I went through played out on the stage, through our songs and our music, and in the end, it was what always brought us back together. I couldn't imagine not doing that with Deacon. It was worth the tough times to have those golden moments. But even I knew that something had to change. I just wasn't sure I was ready for that yet.

I gave Tandy a small smile. "I know, babe. But you're going to have to trust me that I know what's best for me."

Tandy shrugged. "As long as you know you can always come to me. If you need me. I'll always be there for you."

"I know. And I appreciate it. But I'm fine." I'm pretty sure she didn't believe me. I wasn't sure I believed it either, but I wasn't ready yet to walk out the door.

* * *

It didn't take long before I was finally ready. The last few weeks of August, as we were wrapping up the tour, were tough. Deacon was struggling and he missed several shows. I had tried to be understanding, but I had finally had enough. I sent Bucky out to find him and I headed for the airport and flew back to Nashville. I found a small apartment in the West End and put down a deposit. I couldn't move in for a few weeks, but that gave me some time to get my life organized. I felt so defeated and I had a pit in my stomach as I thought about my next steps. I wanted to have a place to go that wasn't my sister's. I didn't know if or when I would actually move into the apartment, but I wanted it to be there if I needed it.

It was a one bedroom apartment. It had a little balcony off the living room. It was a nice place in a nice neighborhood, but still not too grand. One of the things I really loved about it was the window seat in the bedroom. The day I actually got the key, I went and sat on the window seat in the empty apartment and cried. I hated thinking about leaving Deacon, but I was so bone weary these days. Living with Deacon could be wonderful, but it could also be so hard and so painful.

When I got back to our house that night, Deacon was in good spirits and sober. It was times like these that I thought that I could never really leave him and that I would never move into that apartment. But I also knew, by now, that these days might not last, that tomorrow he could be drunk and angry. This night though was one of the special nights. He had picked up Chinese food and when I got home he kissed me sweetly and told me how much he loved me and how much I meant to him. I let him run his hands over me and then watched as he gently undressed me, stopping now and then to touch me in the ways he knew could get me to forget anything but how he was making me feel. I moaned as he leaned down to lick my nipples, swirling his tongue over them lightly, then blowing on them softly. He touched me between my legs and when he felt how wet I was, he moaned himself.

He looked into my eyes, his dark with desire. "Oh, God, Ray, I need you so bad," he murmured.

In answer, I stepped back, then reached out and undressed him like he had undressed me. Then I led him to the bed and pulled him towards me. We wrapped our arms and legs around each other and made love with a sense of urgency and need. When we were skin on skin it felt like we were one. If I could have talked about it at all, it would have been hard for me to have explained it. It was so much more than mere sex; it was the other way we spoke to each other, when we weren't doing it with our music. I knew I would never love a man the way I had loved Deacon, the way I still loved Deacon. I would never be as connected to another man as I was to him. It was hard to believe that I had known that when I was just sixteen, but I had known it then. Which made the thought of leaving him so achingly hard.

Afterwards, we curled up on the bed and he played for me. I would miss that so much, I knew. He played the song he had written for me right after we had met. I always harmonized a little, just because I couldn't resist singing with him, but this was his song and I let him take the lead.

_Sittin' here tonight / By the fire light / It reminds me I already have more than I should_

_I don't need a thing, no one to call my name / At the end of the day / Lord I pray, I have a life that's good_

_Two arms around me, heaven to ground me / In a family that always calls me home_

_For it's a gift that's enough love to share / And a sweet sweet sweet song_

_At the end of the day / Lord I pray, I have a life that's good_

I only wish it were as simple as it had been back in the beginning, when life really was that good.

* * *

A week later, Deacon was in jail and I called Tandy, asking her to come help me move my things. She wisely kept her opinions to herself that day, although I knew it was killing her not to tell me that she'd told me so. I fired Deacon from my band and told him then that I couldn't see him anymore. I had expected him to be angry, but he was just sad. My heart was breaking as I watched him walk away from me.

Two weeks later, Tandy set me up on a date with Teddy Conrad, even though I'd told her I didn't want to date anyone. But she wouldn't take no for an answer and so I went out with someone other than Deacon Claybourne for the first time in over ten years.


	8. Chapter 8

There were actually a lot of things that I liked about Teddy Conrad. He was smart and he liked to talk about a lot of things, but he never made me feel like the high school dropout I was. He was a complete gentleman, opening doors and pulling out chairs. He was even keeled. No explosive fights or petulant scowls, no breaking dishes or guitars. It was actually nice that he really knew nothing about music and that he stayed out of my career. But most of all, I liked that he could hold his liquor.

Teddy drank bourbon whiskey, but the good kind. He sipped it, never downing it in big deep swallows. And I never saw him drink more than two, so I never had to drag him out of a restaurant or wonder where he was at the end of the night. It was also bittersweet, knowing that Deacon and I would never have this kind of experience.

Teddy was the total opposite of Deacon in every way. And that never failed to be the thing that could make me sit on my window seat, staring at the moon, wondering why things couldn't have been different.

For the first several months, Teddy and I dated sporadically. Mainly because I was still out on tour. He traveled to see me several times, but he always seemed so out of place and awkward. He wasn't a big country music fan – never was, actually – and he seemed uncomfortable standing on the sidelines. As comfortable as Teddy and I were and as much as we did enjoy each other's company, that was the one constant, even when we were married. He didn't really like my life on the stage. At first I thought it was because he didn't understand it and he didn't have a role to play, unlike in his day-to-day life. I later realized, as he came to know more and more about Deacon and my life with him, that it was about the bond he felt was still there between us. Even though Deacon wasn't in my band anymore and I wasn't seeing him at all, Teddy always felt threatened. I tried not to let him see that I missed Deacon, because I didn't want to hurt him. Teddy was so good to me. It was not hard to like him, it was just hard to love him. Because I had a hard time giving up my feelings for Deacon.

I didn't sleep with Teddy until New Year's Eve. Part of it was because of my schedule, but part of it was that I wasn't sure I was ready. I had never been with anyone but Deacon. I wasn't sure I knew how to be with anyone but Deacon. And Teddy didn't excite me that way. He was a nice kisser, but those kisses never had the passion and heat that kisses with Deacon did. I knew I needed to stop thinking about Deacon, stop comparing Teddy to Deacon. I had moved on.

So on New Year's Eve 1998, I went with Teddy to his condo and when he asked me to stay, I said yes. He was gentle and sweet, undressing me carefully. He seemed to be in awe of me, which made me self-conscious. I had always been so uninhibited with Deacon, matching his every move with my own, but I couldn't do it with Teddy. And so I let him take the lead and after we had made love, I felt empty.

* * *

I saw Deacon for the first time since I had told him I had fired him from my band in late January. He was doing some session work with Vince Gill and he was at a small honky tonk on South Broadway where Vince was trying out some songs. Nashville may be a big city, but the country community was small. People knew that Deacon and I weren't together and that he was not part of my band. Most people wouldn't have said much to me about him, but I still heard the whispers. The word on the street was that he was doing well and there weren't stories of him getting wasted. So I was curious. I should have known better than to go that night, but I did it anyway.

When Deacon saw me, he smiled. I smiled back and waved. He walked over to where I was standing and reached in to hug me. I breathed in his smell, partly because I'd missed it and partly to see if he was drinking. I thought I caught a very faint whiff of whiskey, but I couldn't be sure.

"Hey, Ray," he said. "I'm glad to see you."

I took him in. He looked good. His eyes seemed clear. "It's good to see you, Deacon. How've you been?"

"Good. Been staying pretty clean."

I smiled. "I'm glad to hear that." My insides were turning backflips. I felt a heavy fullness between my legs. I nearly moaned out loud. This was the Deacon I'd loved and it was hard not to want him back.

"How's everything with you?"

I smiled. I wasn't sure whether to say anything about Teddy, so I didn't. "I'm good. Just enjoying the downtime before I get back in the studio." The words that came out of my mouth next shocked me. "Are you exclusive with Vince? Because it turns out I need a lead guitar player."

Deacon raised his eyebrows. "Seriously? Are you asking me back?"

I hadn't really meant to do that, but he was here and he looked so wonderful and my insides were melting. I missed him and I needed him. And the guy who had replaced him just wasn't the same. "Yeah, I'm asking you back. But just as my guitar player."

Deacon nodded. "Yeah, I heard you been seeing somebody."

I flushed and looked down. When I looked back, his eyes looked sad. I shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."

"Is it serious?"

I shrugged again. "I don't know. I guess. Yeah, it's kind of serious."

Deacon looked away and took a deep breath. When he looked back at me, his face was neutral. "I'm happy for you, Ray," he said quietly. "You deserve someone who'll be good to you."

I didn't really know what to say to that and after a moment, Deacon walked off. My heart felt heavy. I didn't want to hurt him. I had made a mistake coming here, and now I felt sad myself. I saw him over at the bar, with a glass in his hand. I hurried towards him and put my hand on his wrist. "Don't," I whispered. "Please don't."

After a moment, he let go of the glass and took my hand, pulling me after him, away from the bar. The hall was dimly lit and crowded, the music throbbing around us. Deacon stood close to me, his hand pressing against my waist, pressing me towards him. To anyone standing around us that chose to look, we would have looked like we were talking. Our faces were close to each other. I could feel his breath against my cheek and I was sure he could feel mine. I felt his other hand lightly graze my leg. Coils of electricity seemed to snake up my insides. I could feel myself getting wet. I knew I needed to stop this, but I couldn't move. His fingers moved and lightly rubbed the inside of my thigh. I moved my other leg slightly to give him room. He slid his fingers up and I gasped with pleasure. He quickly reached into my panties and thrust two fingers deep inside me. I thought I was going to faint. I groaned, loudly, and was glad the music kept me from being heard by anyone but him.

He played with me gently at first, then a little more roughly, then he stopped, his fingers still. "Don't stop," I begged. I moved my hips insistently, willing him to move his hand. "Please."

He leaned in a little closer. "You love this, don't you, Ray?" he whispered into my ear.

"You know I do," I whimpered.

"What do you want me to do?" His fingers swirled, then stopped again.

I moaned. "Please make me come. Right now," I begged. When we were together, we had enjoyed this little game. He would get me to orgasm in a crowded bar or room, then we would disappear to wherever we were staying, or sometimes even just to a bathroom stall, to make love. It was hot and sexy and just thinking about it nearly made me come without him doing another thing. It had been so long since I had felt like this. And then he was moving his fingers, pressing and touching and rubbing me in all the ways he knew I liked, and I pressed myself hard against him as I came, moaning into his neck.

"Does he do this for you?" he asked. I shook my head. Then he moved his hand and grabbed the other side of my waist. "Come on," he whispered into my ear. "Let's go." He took my hand and I started to follow him. Then I thought, _What am I doing? I'm with Teddy now. I can't do this._ I stopped and pulled my hand free. Deacon turned and looked at me with a puzzled look on his face.

I shook my head. "I can't do this," I said. I took a step back. "I'm sorry, but I can't do this." I turned and hurried away as fast as I could. I could hear Deacon calling my name, but I kept going, tears filling my eyes.

When I was out on the street, I took a deep breath and headed quickly for my car. I cried all the way back to my apartment. _What were you thinking, Rayna?_ I asked myself. I had just cheated on Teddy. I couldn't control myself around Deacon and it made me feel disloyal to Teddy. I was trying to move on and I hated what I'd just done at that bar. Actually I hated that I'd loved it, and that made me feel worse.

* * *

I changed into my pajamas and sat on the window seat, hugging my knees to my chest. I could still feel the warmth of Deacon's skin, his hands on me. It was wrong. I had broken up with him. I was with Teddy now. Teddy was good to me, treated me well, and didn't cause me pain. I knew I didn't feel the same way about Teddy that I had ever felt about Deacon, but that didn't mean I should have let Deacon do what he'd done. A tear slid down my cheek. I still loved Deacon, he was still the one I dreamed about, but I had made a decision to get off that rollercoaster and I needed to stand by that.

Coleman had told me I needed to leave Deacon be and I had tried, but I was weak. So weak. I had not gone to the bar tonight with this in mind, but if I was honest, I wasn't surprised. Deacon sober was a turn on. I decided Coleman was right. I really did need to stay away from him or this would happen again.

This could never happen again.


	9. Chapter 9

The next day I made two phone calls. The first was to Bucky.

"Hey, Buck."

"Hey, Rayna. What's up?"

I hesitated. "I did something a little crazy last night."

"I can't wait to hear this," Bucky responded with a chuckle.

"Well, I went to the Wild Horse last night and I saw Deacon. And we talked and I kind of…."

"Asked him to be your bandleader again?" Bucky finished.

I was shocked. How could he have found out so fast? "How did you know?"

"I didn't, until just then. It was a lucky guess. Are you calling me to see if I'll break the news to him that it's all a mistake?"

"No," I said slowly. "I was calling to tell you I'd done it. Although based on how the night ended, maybe he won't come back after all."

"What happened?"

"Nothing I want to talk about. But I'll find out today if it's going to stick."

"Just let me know."

One of the things I liked about Bucky was that he never judged. He just took care of things, took care of me. He'd been my manager since shortly after I won my first CMA award and he had been not only a great manager, but a great friend for all of those years. I could count on Bucky to be honest with me always and to give great advice, but if I chose to go another way, he would support me 100%.

Bucky knew what a great guitar player Deacon was, what a great songwriting partner he was, but he had given me a lot of tough love over the years about carrying him on my back. It was something we had to agree to disagree on and I'm sure he wasn't exactly thrilled with my announcement. But he would be a professional about it and work to make it work as best he could. I just hoped I had made the right decision, as spur of the moment as it was.

* * *

The second call was to Deacon. I asked him to meet me at our meeting place near the river, not far from Sound Check. I was probably a fool to meet him alone in a private area, but I wanted to be able to talk to him without other distractions. He answered his phone right away and agreed to meet me, after just a momentary hesitation.

It was cold that day and I was bundled up. I got there first and paced, as much to keep my blood flowing as to calm my nerves. When I saw his truck pull up, I felt quivers of excitement and butterflies in my stomach. He jumped over the ledge and walked over quickly, rubbing his hands together and blowing on them. I drank in the look of him. He was still the one that made my heart flutter and made me lose my mind a little. I smiled and waved my gloved hands. "You should have worn gloves," I said.

He smiled back. "You know men don't wear gloves," he said with a wink.

I made a face at him and then hopped up on the concrete picnic table, wincing a little at the chill on my ass. Deacon followed and we sat close, drawing warmth from each other against the brisk day.

"So, what's up?" he asked.

I hugged myself. "I wanted to tell you that I was serious last night about you coming back to my band. If you want to, that is." I turned my head to look up at him, squinting my eyes against the sun.

He crossed his arms, covering his hands, and leaned forward a little, looking at his feet. "I want to, Ray," he said. He worked his lip and then turned to look at me. "I know I shouldn't have done that last night, but you looked so good. And I missed you."

I looked away. Thinking about what he had done to me made me feel disloyal to Teddy at the same time that I felt that throbbing fullness in my core. I wondered if I would ever stop feeling that way when I was around him. Again I wondered if I was making a smart decision or if I just wanted him near me. If I was honest, it was probably more the second than the first. "I've missed you too, Deacon," I said quietly. "But we can't do that. Not again." I shivered, both from the cold and the nearness of him. "Can you work with me just as a partner?"

He hunched forward. "I can try."

"I want you to try. I want this to work."

He nodded. "I know. I do too."

I breathed in slowly. "I'm going to have Bucky send you the new material for the album."

He looked at me and raised his eyebrows. "You been writing?"

I nodded. "Yeah. It's a little bit different stuff than you and I wrote together." I wondered how he would react when he saw some of my new songs. I had written several of them in the aftermath of our break up and they didn't pull any punches. In particular I thought of "This Love Ain't Big Enough" and "The Best Songs Come From Broken Hearts". They were very clearly about Deacon and weren't necessarily flattering. In fact, I knew I was going to have to rework my whole playlist when I went back out on tour. If Deacon was going to be back, there were songs we couldn't sing anymore. A lot was going to change.

He nodded thoughtfully. "I'm looking forward to seeing them."

I looked at him. _I wonder_, I thought. "Um, another thing. I really need you to stay sober, Deacon. I'm going out on a limb for you and I can't have you messing up again. Can you do that?"

He took a deep breath and then rubbed his hands over his face. He didn't respond right away. Finally he said, "I don't want to fuck this up, Rayna. I don't want to disappoint you. I will do everything in my power to make this work."

I nodded, but didn't say anything. I hoped he could do this. I needed him. I hoped _I_ could do it. Being close to him again, working with him again, would be hard. It would be hard not to fall into old patterns. I was a little nervous about how Teddy would react when I told him. He still didn't know a lot about my relationship with Deacon, but Tandy had clued him in to some of it, the worst parts of it, of course. But this was _my_ career and I needed to have the best around me and Deacon was certainly that. I wanted this to work. Badly.

I pushed myself up and stepped off the table. Deacon followed. I turned to him. "I'm glad we're still going to work together."

"Me too. Thanks, Ray."

I nodded and smiled. Then I turned and walked up the hill to my car, with Deacon following behind me. He reached in and opened the car door for me. I went to get in the car and then turned back. He took a step towards me and pulled me towards him. His lips covered mine and I opened my mouth to his and we kissed hungrily. We kissed for a long time, slow and deep, and then finally we broke away from each other, with just feathery kisses until I finally stepped back. I was pretty sure the pain I saw in Deacon's eyes matched my own.

"I'm sorry," he said, sadly.

I shrugged. "It's ok. I still care about you, Deacon. That hasn't changed. You're still a big part of my life."

He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and let his thumb graze my cheek. Then he stepped back, turned, and walked to his truck. I watched him get in and drive off without looking back. I got in my car and sat for a few minutes, breathing in deeply, my heart aching the way I guessed his was as well.

This would be hard.

* * *

I waited a few days before I told Teddy that I had hired Deacon back. Even though he stayed out of my business when it came to my career, I wasn't sure how he would react to my news. I didn't feel like I had to justify my decisions to Teddy, but things were more serious between the two of us and I didn't want to blindside him. I didn't expect this to go particularly well.

We were at dinner and Teddy had been telling me about some business deal he was working on. I pretended to be interested, smiling and nodding at him, and occasionally saying, "Wow, that's great." I'm pretty sure Teddy knew I didn't really understand what he was telling me, but he never called me out on it. Truthfully, he kind of did the same thing to me when I talked about my career. So when he had finished his story, I took a small sip of my wine and cleared my throat. "So, I'm getting ready to head back to the studio tomorrow."

Teddy smiled pleasantly. "I'm sure you're excited about that," he said.

I smiled and looked away. "I am. I always like working on a new album." I took another larger sip of wine. "So, I've made some changes to my band. I think that will improve the sound." I had told Teddy before that my lead guitar player had not been a good choice and that I had felt like the end of my tour had not gone well because of it. I wasn't sure he remembered that though. "I replaced my lead guitar player."

Teddy looked at me and raised his eyebrows. He had raised his glass towards his mouth and now he set it down. "Really," he said flatly.

"Um, yeah. You know, I went to the Wild Horse the other night to hear Vince Gill and Deacon was playing with him. He seems to be back on his program and he's not tied to Vince, so I hired him back." I had lowered my head and looked up through my lashes at Teddy. He didn't look happy.

Teddy looked hard at me. "Deacon? Really, Rayna? Why would you do that?"

I scrunched up my face and flipped my hand. "He's the best, Teddy. And I told him it was strictly business."

Teddy made a face and smiled sarcastically. "Are you really that naïve, Rayna? He's not going to behave himself around you, you know that."

I glared at Teddy. "Why would you think that? Do you not think that I can handle him?"

"I think you would intend to, but you have a long history with him. And you haven't made smart choices in the past when it comes to him." He took a deep swallow from his glass. "I think this is a bad idea."

"Well, it's my career, so it's my decision, Teddy." I bristled a little at his assumption that I would not make smart choices. Although Lord knows I hadn't already. "You have to trust me, Teddy."

"I trust _you_, Rayna. It's Deacon I don't trust."

I looked down. I felt guilty about my actions around Deacon, knowing that Teddy trusted me. _If he only knew._ "You don't have to worry, Teddy. Bucky will be there too and he'll help keep Deacon in line."

Teddy shook his head. "I still think it's a bad idea, Rayna. But you're right, it's your career and your decision. Just be careful."

I nodded. Teddy changed the subject, but the rest of the night felt strained. He didn't stay over that night, just kissed me lightly and hugged me. I felt like I had disappointed him. Like I had disappointed myself. Deacon was just too much a part of me for me to think clearly where he was concerned. I wondered if I had made a mistake after all.

* * *

Deacon was quiet the next day at rehearsal. It was oddly comforting to have him standing behind me again, but I had to wonder what he thought about some of what we were playing. The rehearsal went well and I knew, at the end, that it had been the right decision to bring him back. When we were done and the other members of my band had left, I looked at him as he put his things in his satchel and prepared to leave. He had just turned to walk out when I called after him. "Deacon!" He turned to look at me, but I couldn't tell what he was thinking. "How did it feel?" I asked. "Being back."

"Good, Ray," he responded. He shook his head with a short laugh. "Interesting songs you wrote though."

I smiled apologetically. "Well, you know there were some tough times there at the end and it helped to write about them."

He looked away for a moment, then back at me. "I have to say it feels a little strange to be standing here while you're singing about how I was such a mistake or how you're going to bury our love or how you went through hell. Just feels weird, Rayna."

I frowned. "Well, you know what, Deacon? I _did_ go through hell and I _did_ have to find a way to get past you. I don't know how it's any different than that song you wrote about being in my sideshow. Damn it, the only way I know to speak my feelings is through my music. And you hurt me, Deacon. You hurt me over and over again." I was shouting at this point and Deacon was rocking from one foot to the other, scowling at me.

He just stood there looking at me for a minute and then he put his satchel and guitar down and walked over to me. He put his hand on the back of my neck and pulled me towards him, kissing me hard. I pressed my hands against his back, pulling him in closer to me, and I kissed him back. I moaned in the back of my throat as the kiss grew more demanding and he slid his hand down my back and cupped my ass. I could feel him hard against me. And then I thought about Teddy. I pulled back, still breathing hard, my lips feeling rough from his mouth on them.

We stood there looking at each other for a moment and then Deacon's eyes darkened and he breathed out hard. "Damn it, Ray," he said softly.

I felt tears in my eyes and I pressed my hand against my stomach. I shook my head. "Please don't do this to me," I whispered.

He turned and walked back to where he had left his things, picked them up, and walked out.

* * *

For the most part, we were able to stay away from each other. I would be the first to leave most of the time, so that I didn't end up being there with just him. He made a habit of walking out with some of the other members of the band. It did feel like the tension between us helped make the music better somehow. Once in a while, we would find ourselves alone together, and sometimes we couldn't help taking the opportunity. But it had only been kissing, nothing more. And afterwards I always felt ashamed that I couldn't stay away.

Then there was one day in early March. We were almost finished with the recording and I had stayed afterwards to listen to some of the tracks. I was sitting by myself with the headphones on and my eyes closed, listening to what we had done. All of a sudden I could sense someone standing there and opened my eyes to see Deacon. My breath caught in my throat and I felt those quivers of need running through me. Teddy had spent the night the night before and all I'd been able to think of as he made love to me was Deacon. I had dreamt about him. I felt like I couldn't catch my breath as I stared at him.

He sat down next to me and removed the headphones, laying them on a table. He reached out his hand and ran a couple fingers down my cheek. I moaned and leaned into his hand, not taking my eyes off him. He moved closer and put his hands on my waist, leaning in to kiss me lightly. I moaned again and put my hands on either side of his face and deepened the kiss. He moved one hand to my thigh and started to slide it up my leg. I pulled back with a gasp and put my hand on his. "No," I said.

He breathed in raggedly. "Rayna, I love you. I still love you."

I shook my head. "Deacon…."

He pleaded with his eyes. "Please give me another chance," he said. "Please."

"I don't think I…."

He grabbed my hand. "Let's just talk then. Come with me to the cabin and let's talk."

I shook my head again. "I don't think that's a good idea, Deacon."

"Please, Ray. Just let me show you that I'm doing better. Please, baby. Please."

I was ready to tell him no, but he looked so good and I'd missed him so much. I could at least listen to him, right? So, even though a little voice inside me told me I was making a big mistake, I took a deep breath and then smiled at him. "Ok, I'll go. But I'm going to drive my own car. I'll follow you up there, ok?"

He broke into a huge smile that lit up his face and made my heart flutter. "Thank you, baby," he said and then he leaned in and kissed me hard. He stood, pulling me up with him. "Let's go then." And I followed him out to the parking lot. We stood by my car kissing for a few minutes and then he opened the door for me. I got in and he shut the door, then practically ran to his truck. That was how I ended up following him to the cabin. That was the night that changed my life forever.


End file.
